[He knew it. He absolutely knew that being stuck on the moon, surrounded by all of this damnable technology, was going to screw them over sooner or later-- and it seems it's sooner. Rynlan is dealing with that as best he can; if there are gravity problems, well, he floats everywhere anyway. Lighting problems are solved (at least temporarily, and for a small area) by the golden glow that calling the Light to his hands provides, but for the most part? He's around, grumbling quietly every time an issue pops up--]
This is exactly what relying on mechanics over magic gets you, you know. Matter of time before this Light-forsaken place started going haywire.
(b, for bothering later)
[And once he's got a better picture of just what those problems were about... well. He isn't one to take sides, he's hardly been around long enough to charge headlong into defense of either, so this is where he's going to stay. Where he's from, this sort of incident is so rarely solved without some sort of bloodshed, and that's nothing he wants any part of in person.
Instead he's keeping himself occupied in any downtime he has by weaving strands of shadow together. The shadow he casts is pooled at his feet, trailing up into braided strands that hang from his fingers as he idly knits them together, letting the whole chain dissolve into purple wisps once it's finished and starting a new pattern. There's no reason not to keep his hands busy while he keeps an eye and an ear on the area.]
ota, anytime!
[He knew it. He absolutely knew that being stuck on the moon, surrounded by all of this damnable technology, was going to screw them over sooner or later-- and it seems it's sooner. Rynlan is dealing with that as best he can; if there are gravity problems, well, he floats everywhere anyway. Lighting problems are solved (at least temporarily, and for a small area) by the golden glow that calling the Light to his hands provides, but for the most part? He's around, grumbling quietly every time an issue pops up--]
This is exactly what relying on mechanics over magic gets you, you know. Matter of time before this Light-forsaken place started going haywire.
(b, for bothering later)
[And once he's got a better picture of just what those problems were about... well. He isn't one to take sides, he's hardly been around long enough to charge headlong into defense of either, so this is where he's going to stay. Where he's from, this sort of incident is so rarely solved without some sort of bloodshed, and that's nothing he wants any part of in person.
Instead he's keeping himself occupied in any downtime he has by weaving strands of shadow together. The shadow he casts is pooled at his feet, trailing up into braided strands that hang from his fingers as he idly knits them together, letting the whole chain dissolve into purple wisps once it's finished and starting a new pattern. There's no reason not to keep his hands busy while he keeps an eye and an ear on the area.]